


Angel of the Morning

by Caraphernellic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Smut, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-05-24 18:39:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14959986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caraphernellic/pseuds/Caraphernellic
Summary: Castiel Edlund is a rational, knowledge-driven man. All he knows is his world of scholars; higher education and the fast track to success. An opportunity to work on something secret changes his whole life-it introduces him to Dean Winchester. Castiel learns that sometimes you have to go back to move forward....back fifty years, that is.





	1. Chapter One: The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is definitely out of my comfort zone, but it was something I really wanted to do and I worked hard as hell to make it seem as authentic as possible. I hope my readers enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. More characters and tags will be added with each chapter, but I don't want to spoil anything.

Castiel Edlund has found himself on a red-eye flight; a spontaneous trip to Italy with his father. Castiel is _not_ a spontaneous type of person- he considers himself rational and grounded. Charles ‘Chuck’ Edlund, his father, is still a grounded man, but perhaps marginally less so. Chuck is far more inclined to believe in all of the things that his son Castiel does not. The man believes that anything is probable; Castiel reasons that this is due to his professional habits. His dad is a highly regarded scientist, a man who is extensively educated in science, anthropology, and religion, as well as a myriad of other subjects that his dark-haired son can’t begin to remember. It is because of this education and prominence that Chuck has been invited to the _Vatican_ , of all places. He has asked Castiel to accompany him on this trip, with no more clue to what they will be doing there other than “Collecting something important, son.” Castiel has agreed, partially due to curiosity but mostly due to the fact that he shares many of his father’s educational pursuits. The younger man is seeking a Master’s Degree in Religious studies. The irony of his name relating to his field of interest is not lost on him.

 

Castiel ponders this as he looks out of the airplane window at the receding city below. He is silently grateful for their first-class seats, as the flight from Lawrence, KA to Rome is a little over eleven hours. The 23-year old is home from college for the summer, staying with his parents to spend his much needed time off. Castiel attends the prestigious Dartmouth College in New Hampshire, his father’s alma mater. The youngest of five children, he is the only one still pursuing his education. His mother and father have welcomed him to spend the summer in their new home here in Lawrence. The Edlund family was not raised here, this is Chuck’s newest venture for ‘inspiration’ for his second novel. Writing is another interest of his father’s, and Castiel can see why he picked this city to settle down in.

 

Lawrence is a radiant city, vastly different from Hanover, where the college student resides during the fall, winter, and spring. Here, there is wide open space for miles that leaves nothing of nature’s beauty to the imagination. Castiel imagines it’s difficult _not_ to feel inspired here.

As it so often does, his hand wanders to his pocket, fingers gliding over the smooth metal of the pocket-watch he knows resides there. It was given to him as a gift from his Dad, an old possession of his own father’s. Michael Edlund, Castiel’s grandfather, was a great and well-respected man. He and the boy were very close, until his death when his grandson was twenty. For his twenty-first birthday, Chuck had given it to him as a keepsake. Although the old watch no longer works, it is one of Castiel’s most prized possessions.

 

The father and son duo touch down in Rome nearing midnight. Castiel is already feeling the strange effects of jet lag- he feels as though they have lost an entire day, between the long flight and the time difference of seven hours. Their appointment in Vatican City is to be the next day at noon sharp.

  


All of the textbooks in the world could not have prepared Castiel for the beauty of the Vatican in person. The architecture is stunning and the intricate art that fills the ceiling takes his breath away. He can hardly keep his gaze forward instead of upward at the beautiful monstrosity as they make their way to the meeting room. To his disappointment, the youngest Edlund is instructed to sit outside of the private room to wait for his father.

 

They stay in Rome for two more days, and Chuck never once mentions the meeting to his son. Castiel assumes it had not gone well and does not want to push the subject. He wills himself to forget about the wonder he had felt in Vatican City and to instead enjoy the sights of Rome with his father. At the airport two days post-meeting, Castiel begins to grow suspicious. As the pair makes their way to a private jet, he starts to realize that his earlier assumption was false. Chuck gives away nothing, simply giving his youngest a wink and an off-beat grin as they board the jet. Castiel is smart enough to know that you don’t just get invited to Vatican City and depart on a private jet for nothing. Whatever they were here to meet for is on the jet with them, and it’s coming back to Lawrence Kansas. This makes the 23-year old restless, prompting him to pour a glass of wine for the flight to quell his building nerves. Castiel never pictured himself riding in a private jet while sipping a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, and yet here he is.

  


His confusion grows they exit the plane and head for their normal vehicle. What sense does it make to take a different plane back to the States, but then hop back into their Audi R8 as if nothing just happened? Still, he says nothing. Castiel can’t tell if he’s keeping his silence out of respect or because he’s afraid of the answer he seeks.

  


When the men pull up to the house, Chuck asks his son if he can follow him inside. They enter the house and head straight for the basement.

  
“Dad?” Castiel follows, but can’t help the single word that escapes from his lips. The scholar in him is screaming at him, telling him to put the pieces together-something big is happening. His blue eyes track his father as he opens a door that he has not seen since he started staying here. Their footsteps seem to echo as they make their way down three steps into a small but bare room. Bare except for one item, that is.

 

“Son. We have been given the opportunity of a lifetime.” Chuck finally breaks into the wide grin he’s been stowing since the visit to the Vatican. He motions for Castiel to step closer. The object is gray metal, or is at least encased in it. Chuck opens the case to reveal a medium-sized object that seems to have a million small pieces inside of it.

 

“Uh…” Chuck’s son is at a loss for words. “Am I supposed to know what it is?” He finally asks. The grin on the eldest Edlund’s face grows wider.

 

“You will. You do. It’s a Chronovisor. _The_ Chronovisor.” Charles’ blue-grey eyes are sparkling.

 

“That’s not funny.” Castiel huffs. “What is it really?”

  


It takes his father over twenty minutes to convince him, and then another ten to calm him down as he hyperventilates. The Chronovisor (up until now, apparently) was an alleged time machine, for lack of a better explanation. The machine was supposed to be a functional time viewer built by Pellegrino Ernetti, an Italian priest/scientist. Father Francois Brune spoke of the Chronovisor in a book published in 2002. Castiel studied it briefly in school, but there was so little information on it that the object seemed mythical at best. And now it’s here, in his parent’s basement.

  


Castiel finds it hard to sleep knowing that such an object is a mere feet below him. The power to change the world has been bestowed to his very own father, and he has been allowed to take part in it. The Vatican has had this project up it’s sleeve for years, and was searching for someone they can trust enough to discover how the Chronovisor works. Charles agreed to the challenge, and the Chronovisor was placed in the private jet before they even boarded it. The same men followed them back to Lawrence and evidently, moved the machine into the bunker-style room hidden in their basement. They can disclose this information to not a single soul, even his mother Naomi has no idea what the project really is about. She is the opposite of both himself and his father; far less science-oriented and more interested in softer pleasures such as art and gardening.

 

The Dartmouth student’s resolve crumbles in a mere two days. He can’t seem to keep his mind off of the Chronovisor. He’s already pinched himself three times, and after the third time he makes the journey to the basement once again. “ _Just to take a look,_ ” He tells himself. Castiel stands in front of it, feeling oddly nervous. “Get a grip.” He scolds himself. Castiel opens up the case, staring at all of the gears inside. There must be a dozen or more, varying in sizes , and some in better shape than others.He tentatively touches one, the pad of his finger tracing it. His curiosity gets the best of him again, and he traces a second one. His left hand squeezes the pocket-watch in his pocket out of habit.

 

Castiel feels a sudden onset of dizziness, and realizes he hasn’t eaten all day. He blinks against the fuzziness that has unexpectedly clouded his vision. He removes his hand from the Chronovisor and rubs his eyes.

  


When he opens them, he is squinting against sunlight. “What the…” Castiel is looking at an open field, where he should be looking at the walls of his parents’ basement. He slowly turns around. Well, it seems he is looking at the Edlund home. Or at least, it damn sure looks like it. The place is remarkably similar; if Castiel had to guess, he would say this is exactly what the house looked like prior to renovation. That realization does nothing to explain the situation he is currently in, and his stomach twists with nerves.

 

Dean Winchester almost drops his mug of coffee. He lives alone, yet he sees a man standing in his backyard, bewildered look and all. The man is dressed strangely, in denim pants that seem far too tight, paired with a plain t-shirt that resembles nothing of the ringer tees he’s used to seeing (and wearing). On his feet are sneakers that Dean has also never seen in his life. The man must be foreign or something, lost perhaps. The green-eyed man strolls to the front of his house, expecting to see a car broken down on the side of the road. He finds nothing, and his brow furrows.

 

After another moment of deliberation, he exits his back door.

 

“Hey, what’s your bag?” Dean calls out, not unkindly.

 

Castiel whips around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. He is not prepared to find anyone in this moment, much less a tall, handsome man with piercing green eyes.

 

“Excuse me?” What an odd phrase to use, Castiel thinks.

 

“You’re in my backyard.” Dean steps closer, a friendly smile playing on his lips. “I’m Dean.” He holds a hand out to the stranger to shake. Apart from the unusual clothing, he can’t help but notice the attractiveness of the unnamed man. Dark, messy hair frames striking blue eyes against a medium skin tone.

 

“I’m Castiel. I,uh, I think I’m just confused right now.” Castiel tries blinking rapidly, hoping that if he clears his vision, everything will be back to normal. The man, Dean, is still standing in front of him with an expectant look. He’s dressed more sharply than one would expect to see in Lawrence- maybe he works in an office? Dean is clad in gray slacks, crease and all, paired with a collared cream sweater.

 

“Would you like to come inside?” Dean offers. “I can give you a cup of joe and see what I can do to help you.” Castiel follows the man inside, seeing no other option. The decor inside Dean’s home is _vastly_ different from the Edlund’s. The kitchen is smaller, with mustard-colored flowered wallpaper as the backsplash under wooden cabinets. The table is a small round Formica table. The whole thing is very retro, it makes the dark-haired man feel very out of place. His brain is still reeling, trying to come up with an explanation. His eyes catch sight of the calendar hanging on the wall and it steals his breath.

 

“What year is it?” Castiel whispers, eyes still trained on the calendar.

 

Dean turns around from the coffee pot “1968.”

 

 


	2. Chapter Two: Off the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean get a little personal, and a little closer to figuring out what brought Cas to 1968.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any phrases that are era-specific will be defined at the end of the chapter !

Castiel takes a swift drink from his mug, hoping the scalding coffee will bring him back to reality. 

It doesn’t. 

 

“You doin’ alright?” Dean asks him. The man looks scared out of his wits. Maybe he hit his head somewhere, got amnesia. Who doesn’t remember what year it is?

 

“Uh...no. No, not really.” Castiel says weakly. “Because it’s supposed to be 2018.” He figures he might as well blurt it out, he’s got nothing to lose at this point. Dean laughs. “Man, you hit your noggin’? You’re about eatin’ grapes off the wallpaper.” He sits down across from Castiel, his own mug of coffee in hand. The sixties native sports an easy grin, clearly unaffected by the roaring panic that is currently filling his guest.

 

“What?!” Castiel’s voice sounds hysterical. He stands up and starts to pace. “Oh my God, the….the Chronovisor!” His blue eyes are frantic as he comes to the realization. He had quite literally been messing around with a  _ time machine _ , which apparently works. Why the machine chose this specific year, he has no idea.

 

“Hey, cool it. We’ll figure this out.” Dean watches him worriedly. He’s never seen anyone this stressed out in his damn life.

 

“I can prove it.” Castiel tells him. He pulls his iPhone from his pocket. “This is a phone.” 

 

Dean snorts. “Oh yeah?” Castiel comes closer to him. “I mean I don’t have reception right now, because that doesn’t exist yet. But look.” He clicks a few buttons to display some of the features to the green-eyed man beside him.

 

“Where did you get that?” The other man demands. He swallows hard. There’s no way he’s letting this stranger convince him he’s from the future, even if he does have an impossible device.

 

“They’re common in 2018.” Castiel tells him calmly. “Anything else you want to know?” He knows he sounds like a smartass, but he can’t help it. He needs to make Dean understand the situation he’s in.

 

“Yeah actually. How the hell did you get here then? From the future?” Castiel’s counterpart snaps back with equal coldness in his tone.

 

Castiel sits back down at the dining room table and starts from the beginning, spilling the wildest story even he himself could imagine. He tells of the Chronovisor, and his dad, and then opening his eyes to his own parents’ home fifty years ago. He sighs after he finishes, scrubbing a hand over his face. The scholar needs to figure out a way to get himself back where he belongs.

 

Dean doesn’t want to, but he’s starting to let his guard down. The other man seems so earnest, so genuinely distraught, that he finds it hard to believe that he’s lying. The man is telling him about a frickin’  _ time machine _ , and that’s what he finds hard to believe? He must be going soft.

 

“Why now, though? Why 1968?” Dean wonders aloud.

 

“I have no idea. Maybe the specific gear that I touched stands for the year?” Castiel theorizes out loud.

  
  


The pair sits in silence for a while, each man lost in thought.

 

“Tell me about the future.” Dean grins. They both agree that Castiel can tell him some things, but not huge life-altering events that will make too big of an impact. The darker-haired man has already noticed the Beatles records peeking out from the living room- he’s sure as hell not going to be the one that breaks the news that Lennon gets shot and killed.

 

Castiel struggles to think of something interesting and worthwhile to tell Dean. He knows it’s silly, but he has a nagging feeling in his gut that he doesn’t want to let the other man down. In a way, he wants to impress him. “There’s something called the Internet. It’s like a huge encyclopedia of information, you can find almost anything on it. You use a computer to access it, or even your phone. Everyone has it.” Dean’s green eyes sparkle and he nods with enthusiasm, urging him to continue. 

 

“Uh...gay marriage is legal. You know, same-sex. Homosexual.” He swallows, wondering if he’s giving his own sexual identity away by this revelation.

 

The eyes on the man across from him bulge. “No way! That’s...funky!” He’s excited by this. Dean indulges in whatever gender strikes his fancy on that particular day. It’s the ‘60’s, most people aren’t strict with their sexual exploitations, but same-sex marriage is not a legality at the moment. He revels in the small laugh he draws out of the other man.

 

“Your language is very different.” Castiel tells him.

 

“Well, so is yours.” Dean smirks.

 

Dean offers to make breakfast for him, and since he’s trapped here anyway, Castiel accepts. The other man is a very good cook, and he makes scrambled eggs with sides of thick sliced bacon for them. The scene the two of them make, eating delicious food and sharing shy smiles, is so serene that one could almost pretend that it was a normal situation. Almost, apart from the fact that Castiel was beamed here from fifty years in the future by a magical machine that most people don’t even know exists. Every time the thought weaves its way into his mind, it leaves a cold block of ice in the pit of Castiel’s stomach.  _ What if I’m trapped here forever? _ He thinks.  _ What about college, my degree? What will my parents think? I could be on one of those missing person’s shows, where my case will go unsolved while I’m actually stuck in another time period. _

 

After they finish, Dean suggests they retrace Castiel’s steps. The duo treads outside once again to the backyard. Castiel tries to pinpoint the exact spot that he ‘appeared’, for lack of a better word, in this time period. He’s pretty sure he’s damn close; he remembers not only seeing the open field but a small tree a few feet in front of him. In 2018, the tree is now rather large, right at the back of the Edlund home. He briefly wonders when the addition to the back of the house was added. Castiel’s finger traces the pocket-watch again out of nervous habit.

 

“Dean!” He suddenly gasps out the other man’s name. “I think….oh my god, of course.” Castiel is mumbling to himself now. He pulls out the watch. “This was my grandfather’s. He always kept it with him, but I remember him telling me it stopped working when he was 23 years old. Out of the blue, one day it just...stopped. He was born in 1945.” The blue-eyed man is rambling a bit now, trying to put the pieces together.

 

“So he would’ve been 23 in 1968.” Dean finishes for him. “You think that’s why the uh, Chrono-whatever beamed you here?” He rubs the back of his neck, contemplating. He supposes that makes enough sense in this situation. Emphasis being on ‘given the situation.’ 

 

“Maybe?” The other man is unsure, but it’s the only theory he has to go on.

 

“Cas…” The shortened version of the other man’s name slips out of Dean’s mouth. “We’ll figure it out.” He has no other comfort to offer the near-stranger except his weak promise of reassurance. “I could call my brother, he’s a frickin’ genius.” 

 

Castiel’s lips pull into a tiny smile at the nickname. No one has ever used that one on him before. “No, I don’t think we should tell anyone. Yet. Give me some time to evaluate this.”

 

He spends hours outside, wandering around the field, searching for something, anything that will give him a clue. Dean had taken him to the basement, but the door to the room that holds the Chronovisor in 2018 isn’t there. It must have been an addition solely for the purpose of housing the machine.

 

Dean glances out of the windows every now and again, going about his own business but keeping an eye on Castiel. Luckily, Dean doesn’t have work tonight, so he can stay home and make dinner for himself and the shy stranger.

 

“Cas. Dinner’s ready.” The taller man seeks him out to bring him inside. “You’ve been out here for hours, let’s get some food in you.” They eat a casserole, with Dean making small talk in an attempt to lighten the mood. Castiel wanders through the house afterward, partially out of curiosity and partially out of the desire to find some sort of way back to his own decade. The place seems so different, apart from the obvious time period decor contradictions. The atmosphere itself is different. He pauses to look at a few photos that are displayed on a small table near the front door. There is one of a much younger Dean, another small child, and two smiling parents. If he had to guess, he would say it’s very likely that this is Dean’s family. Another photo depicts the homeowner on his high school graduation day, smiling brightly with pride shining through his vivid green eyes. The man looks so young and full of life in the photo, something about it twists Castiel’s stomach. Something is definitely different about Dean now.

 

A few photos down, Cas gets his answer. This photo is of Dean in uniform. He is saluting the camera next to another, larger man with blue eyes and a sandy-grey beard. He hears the other male walk up behind him. “You served.” He says, eyes not leaving the photo.    
  
“Vietnam. One tour.” Dean confirms. His voice has lost all of its normal playfulness. “And no, my buddy didn’t make it out with me.” He answers Castiel’s unspoken question about the second man appearing in the photo with him. “It was years ago.” He says this as a conversation ender.

 

Cas takes the hint and steps away from the photos. He realizes with a sinking feeling that in 1968, the Vietnam war was still raging. It wouldn’t end for seven more years- he hopes to God that Dean never goes back for another tour. The thought of the man in front of him in combat is a nauseating one.

 

“I brought you some bedclothes. Just in case.” Dean says cautiously, handing over some blankets and pillows. “Sofa is comfortable.” He gives Cas what he hopes is a cheery smile. The time is now almost eleven p.m., and Castiel has been here since 9 a.m. It’s been a long day for the both of them, full of confusion and attempts to wrap their mind around the impossible. Dean is tired, but he doesn’t feel right leaving his guest alone. They decide to settle down for a flick.

 

“Look. Color.” Dean boasts, momentarily forgetting that  _ of course _ Castiel has seen color television before. His cheeks color when he remembers this fact as his counterpart chuckles. It gets him thinking about all the advancements that have been made in 2018. 

 

When both sets of eyes are drooping, the men part ways. Dean retreats to his bedroom, but his sleep is quite restless. He keeps checking on Castiel throughout the night, and each time, the man is still on the couch where he left him. He faces away from Dean, and the blonde man wonders if he’s even asleep. Dean is an early riser, and he starts his day about 8 a.m. the next morning. The handsome acquaintance is still on the sofa, bundled in blankets and seemingly sound asleep. Dean brews a pot of coffee, puttering around the kitchen as he does so. He has to laugh as the smell draws in Castiel after just a few short minutes- the man shuffles into the kitchen with one of the blankets draped around himself. They exchange pleasantries as the older man pulls out food items from the refrigerator. He is mid-sentence when an unfamiliar noise fills his ears. Dean turns in time to see the tan blanket fall to the ground with a soft  _ whoosh _ .

 

Castiel is gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"Eatin' grapes off the wallpaper": very disturbed about something.
> 
> Found that phrase in my research and knew I had to use it in the story !
> 
> *"Funky": excellent
> 
> Any other phrases I might have missed defining that you find you do not understand, don't hesitate to let me know !


	3. Chapter Three: Unfamiliar Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things become clear and simple, and then they get complicated again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to include photos in this fic for visuals, but I can't seem to figure out how. I attempted to put one in the first chapter but I'm pretty sure it doesn't show up. (If you'd like to let me know if you are able to see it, that would be great!)

Dean looks around for Castiel for almost an hour, even if it was evident that he disappeared again.  _ Had he figured something out? Did he go back home?  _ Dean hopes that the other man made it to 2018 safely, even if he wishes he could have spent a little more time with him. How often does someone from the future just show up in your backyard, after all? It was intriguing to say the very least. Although the man was attractive, that was not Dean’s main goal of wanting to get to know him. It’s a little strange to be walking around his own house knowing that fifty years from now, but possibly somehow at the same moment, Castiel is walking around in it too. He’s on edge for the rest of the day, half-expecting something around every corner. He has work to distract him that evening, but his mind is still wandering.

  
  


Castiel’s legs wobble as his eyes open once again. The Chronovisor sits in front of him, jarring him as the sight registers in his brain. He swallows hard.  _ Could it be possible? Is he really back in 2018?  _ His sigh of relief is punctured by his ever-growing confusion. He starts suddenly, realizing that he has been missing for an entire day. His parents are probably frantic. He runs up the stairs two at a time, almost crashing right into his father in the process.

 

“Dad! I’m so sorry, I….You guys were probably searching for me everywhere.” Castiel puffs out, his blue eyes wide.

 

“Son, you’ve been downstairs for maybe fifteen minutes.” Chuck laughs, patting his son on the shoulder. “That machine’s got you in a tizzy,huh?” He shakes his head slightly with an easy smile.

 

“Oh, uh...right.” Cas agrees and immediately heads for his room to wrap his brain around this. He realizes it’s a good idea to keep it to himself, even if he feels guilty for not disclosing to his father. The college student needs to figure out what  _ exactly _ happened for his own peace of mind. That is going to require a lot of alone time and research, neither of which he will be getting if his father, the Vatican, and Lord knows who else is questioning him about what he has figured out with the time machine. Cas combs through the information on the Internet for hours, but the knowledge about the Chronovisor is so limited that he finds next to nothing. Hell, he probably knows more about it already than anything he can find online. The man pulls out his grandfather’s pocket-watch once more, turning it over and over in his hands.

 

He lays awake in bed that night, his mind going over and over the events that have occured over the past day. He begins to have trouble even believing that it was real, even though a large part of him knows that it  _ was _ . Castiel had been transported to 1968 because of something relating to the watch in his pocket and a time machine. He had been there for an entire day before he was randomly transported back to his own time residence, only to find that no time had passed. He comes to the conclusion that he arrived back at the Edlund home at a little after 9am, around the exact same time that he had left. This probably means something, although Castiel does not know what. He does recall the calendar on Dean’s kitchen wall reading May, while it is the early stages of June here. This could perhaps have an involvement with the time situation. These are the only loose conclusions Castiel is able to draw before exhaustion swallows him under and he falls asleep.

  
  


If anyone notices that Dean has been slightly moping around, they don’t comment. For this, he is grateful. He has no explanation to offer if forced to fess up to his attitude. Castiel has been gone for three days now, and the only proof he has that he was ever even there is the slight smell of his cologne on the tan blanket. Not that Dean has checked, or anything.

 

Castiel resists the urge for three days, before he finds himself returning to the room in the basement. It’s almost noon on a Friday this time, so Dean could possibly be at work, but Cas can’t defy the need to go back any longer. He is careful to touch the exact same gear as last time, and prepares himself for the dizzying feeling once again. Miraculously, Cas’ hunch is right, and when his eyes open again, he’s staring at the small version of the tree in the backyard. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised, but he is anyway. He slowly walks to Dean’s back door to knock on it. The younger man suddenly feels unsure, like perhaps he shouldn’t have come. Maybe he is being a bother to Dean; it wouldn’t be unfathomable for him to be imposing.

 

The door opens before Castiel even gets to it. “Cas!” Dean’s face is glowing with his perfect white smile. “You’re back!”

 

The youngest Edlund’s fears dissipate at Dean’s greeting. “Hello, Dean.” He is invited into the blonde-haired man’s home once again. Well, technically it’s his family home.  _ Technically _ . Castiel briefly shares his theories on their circumstances with the other man, and he seems to agree.

 

“In the situation, it does seem possible. I mean hell, I guess anything is possible at this point.” He laughs, gaze focused entirely on the man across from him. “I don’t have work until tonight.  Let’s get groovin’.” Dean slaps the kitchen table lightly. 

 

Cas looks at him quizzically. “You want to...do something?” He guesses. 

 

“Yeah. We could go for a hike. There’s a creek not too far behind the house. Or small river, depending on how you look at it.” Dean is standing now, gesturing outside. Cas finds this interesting; the water must be dried up by his time because he doesn’t recall ever seeing it. He agrees, and not fifteen minutes later they’re tromping through the uncut grass, headed toward a small grove of trees. The two men chat idly, the conversation turning to what Dean does for his livelihood. “I work in a bar. Cain’s Cocktail Lounge.” He snorts at the cheesy name as he says it. “You should come with me tonight, instead of hanging around here alone. You said you think you’ll be here for 24-hours right?” He bumps Castiel’s shoulder. “It’ll be fun.” The shorter man nods, he’d likely go anyway even if Dean hadn’t tried to convince him.

 

They arrive at a small river as promised. There’s a beautiful clearing just across it that Cas wants to go to. “Look! We can use that log.” Castiel is heading for it before Dean can stop him.

 

“Cas, are you sure…” Dean trails off to watch the other man with amusement. He is currently attempting to scale the fallen log to use it to walk across the creek. Castiel is not normally an outdoorsman, but given the circumstances, he wants to explore.The atmosphere is physically different to him; the colors around him seem brighter yet less pronounced than he’s used to. He feels as though he’s looking through the lens of a movie about the 1960’s instead of actually living it. Castiel supposes that’s fitting. 

 

He is broken away from his thoughts by the sound of a crack. “Uh oh.” He peers down at the log beneath his feet.

 

“Cas!” Still on the ground, Dean takes a couple of helpless steps toward him and the log. Castiel takes a tentative step forward and the log buckles in the middle, snapping in half and sending him into the water with a splash. He lands on his ass, the water not even reaching his shoulders. His companion yells out for him once again, his voice taking on a tone of panic. A soaked Cas simply  _ giggles _ . One look at his bewildered expression and wide blue eyes has Dean laughing as well. He wades into the water himself and extends a hand to help Castiel up. The pair walks the rest of the way across the creek and scales the embankment . They find a decent-sized boulder in the sun to lay on while they dry off.

 

They fall into an easy conversation about small details of their lives. Castiel learns that Dean is a big brother to one sibling, and he shares that he himself is a younger brother to four older siblings. Dean is two years his senior, the same age as his own big brother, Gabriel.

 

“Theoretically, though, aren’t you fifty years older than me?” Cas laughs and shifts to look at him.

“Yeah, I’m an old man.” Dean teases back. It’s nice; laying here with a companion. The veteran has a lot of acquaintances, knows a lot of people, but has few friends. This is an unusual situation, but he hopes that Castiel can become his friend. Maybe he can come visit once a week or so. “ _ That would be nice” _ , Dean thinks.

  
  


Dean has work at 8pm. They head back to the house about six to have some dinner. Castiel helps to clean up and wash dishes this time, and as he does so, he notices Dean staring. “What?” He’s suddenly self-conscious. 

 

“We need to put you in some of my clothes.” Dean tells him thoughtfully. “I don’t think we should go out with you wearing clothes from the future.” He’s probably right; after all, Cas’ wardrobe is very different from what he has seen Dean wear. The thought of wearing the other man’s clothes, with his scent all over them, causes Castiel to turn around for fear of blushing.

 

“We’re not exactly the same size, but I think we can make it work.” Dean pulls some of his tighter cords for Cas, as well as the ringer tee he normally reserves for nights when he wants to make more tips since it’s so form-fitting on him.

 

The raven-haired man changes in the bathroom, resisting the urge to snort as he checks his reflection in the mirror. He feels like he’s in a costume, especially with socks and loafers on. “Do I look okay?” He worries, resurfacing in the living room to ask Dean. The owner of the clothes whistles, “You look great. Nothing out of place at all.” He himself has changed into a black turtleneck tucked into his slacks and completed with a belt. He knows by now that this will fit with the atmosphere of the lounge.

 

The ride to Cain’s is an enlightening one for Castiel. He is introduced to Dean’s beautiful black Impala, barely a year old. The sights out of the passenger window are purely fascinating for the Dartmouth student. They pass hordes of teenagers on bikes, or gathered with their friends outside of arcades. Their clothing is bold and brightly colored, and everyone, including the men, seems to have long hair. Except for the man sitting next to him, of course. When they drive past a gas station, Castiel lets out an audible gasp. A gallon of gas only costs .34 cents. It’s one thing to read this in a history book, but another thing to experience it in reality. He feels as though he is in a dream, and he isn’t sure if he wants to wake from it. The 23 year old hasn’t felt this genuinely thrilled in a very long time.

 

Castiel sits at the bar while Dean bartends. The room is very smokey, filled with the scents of cigarettes, marijuana, and malt liquor. The lights are low and the music is loud. In other words, it’s the type of place that Cas would never, ever go to. But here, with Dean, fifty years away from home, he’s loving it. He’d almost forgotten that you were allowed to smoke inside of almost anywhere up until the late nineties/early 2000s. He chuckles to himself at the private joke as he nurses a beer. Castiel rarely drinks, due to his busy college curriculum as well as being a religion major. The two just don’t seem to coincide well. By his third beer, he can already feel the buzz pulsing under his skin. By his fifth, he is well aware that one more drink and he will be sufficiently drunk. Luckily for him, Dean hands him another beer as he sits beside him for his break time.

 

“Let’s dance!” Castiel tells him excitedly. The pair weaves their way through the crowd to the open part of the floor where there are no tables and chairs. The place is pretty packed, but in his intoxicated state Cas doesn’t mind. He doesn’t recognize the song that is playing, but he lets the beer cloud his mind and starts dancing to the beat anyway. There are so many people that he’s pressed quite closely to the man he came with, but he has no qualms about it. If possible, the green-eyed man is even more handsome to Castiel with the alcohol in his system. He continues to dance hard even though he is sweating, and when he wipes his brow for the third time, he is stunned. 

 

Stunned to see a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"Get groovin' ": enjoying something
> 
> *Cords: tight corduroy pants worn in the 1960's ( I believe they had them for both males and females)
> 
> *Arcades prior to video games included skee ball, pin ball, and even psychic rooms !


	4. Chapter Four: Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get a few surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Brief mention of sexual content!

Dean sees the change in his demeanor immediately. “Cas?” He pulls him by the elbow away from the throng of dancing people. 

 

“That’s...that’s my grandpa.” His voice is awed as he stares across the room.

 

“Michael?!” The other man’s voice is shocked. “He’s a regular.” They both watch the eldest Edlund across the room. Cas is amazed, nostalgic, and feeling a familiar pang in his chest all at once. “He’s so...young.” The Dartmouth student never expected to be the same age as his grandpa, both 23 years old and standing in the same room. The whole situation is so bizarre, coupled with the alcohol,that it makes Castiel’s head swim. He takes a seat at a barstool, assuring Dean that he will be fine while he finishes out his shift. Cas desperately wishes to talk with his grandfather, but he isn’t sure if that will mess up the future. It can all get very complicated if he thinks about it, and it brings the beginnings of a headache to his brain.

 

The younger man is much more subdued on the ride home.

 

“You were close?” Dean randomly asks, but Castiel knows he is referring to Michael.    


“Very. He was my best friend. He passed in 2015.” The Edlund’s usual formal vernacular is replaced by a more casual one due to equal parts alcohol and grief. Dean gives him a knowing look, and it makes Cas think of the man in the service photo with him. He says nothing, and they finish the ride to the house in silence.

 

The homeowner sleeps in his bed soundly, but the other man tosses and turns on the couch. He finally throws the tan blanket onto the floor and slips out the back door, desperately hoping a walk will clear his head. He laughs out loud to himself at the ridiculousness of the situation.  _ What a strange predicament to be in _ , he thinks. The air buzzes with sound; crickets and frogs from the small river he and Dean visited, alongside the more distant rush of cars. He scuffs his shoes on the small rocks littering the dirt road- in 2018, it has long since been paved. His blue eyes scan his surroundings, trying to mentally compare them to his own time. He idly wishes for the comfort of Dean’s company, and then mentally scolds himself.  _ You shouldn’t need him for comfort, he’s a near stranger _ , Castiel insists to himself.

 

The next day, as per usual, Cas disappears from 1968 and returns home. He doesn’t return for several days longer than normal, despite his guilt in doing so. The man plays the part of diligent son and focuses on life at home, but after five days, his longing for the adventure has worn him down and he finds himself once again in the basement with the machine. This time, he walks right in the back door that he knows has been left unlocked for him. Dean had told him it was okay to come right in, in case he was preoccupied with something or out at the store. Castiel hears the faint rush of water: the shower is running. He sits down on the couch to wait for the other man, content to relax for a moment.

 

A different kind of noise startles him. He strains his ears, listening hard to pick out the sound. It sounds like….a cry. No, a  _ moan _ . His ears start to burn.  _ Does Dean have someone in there with him?  _ Cas begins to panic, wondering if he should go back outside to wait-but then that would give away that he had heard. He stays on the couch, trying and failing not to hear the faint moans that come from the bathroom every thirty seconds or so. It takes multiple minutes for the younger man to realize he is half-hard in his pants. “Oh no you don’t.” He whispers to himself. He grabs the decorative pillow next to him and puts it on his lap, trying to squash his budding erection. Deep down, Castiel knows that he is getting turned on by the sound of Dean’s husky voice making such erotic noises. Not just anybody, but specifically from him. Dean, the handsome and hospitable man, who always smells nice and is a great cook, and can dance, and….He halts his thoughts, unwilling to let himself think of his new friend in such a way.  _ Especially _ his friend who hails from 1968, a full fifty years behind himself. Thankfully, the shower turns off within two more minutes, and Cas breathes a sigh of relief. Dean appears with wet,slick hair and fresh clothing within a few more minutes. 

 

“Heya, Cas! Sorry if I kept you waiting.” He grins easily, clearly unaware that the other man has just heard him pleasuring himself in the shower. Cas greets him with a warm smile as well, secretly glad that Dean was alone in his endeavors. 

 

Today, they are going to the local swimming pool. Castiel has always liked water well-enough, but he was never a strong swimmer. Dean reassures him that the pool is shallow enough for him to stand up at all times. Again, Cas borrows clothing from the other man, as well as swim trunks. He could have easily brought his own, but the style difference was too great for it to be casual. The shorts that men wore in the 1960’s are significantly shorter than today’s style, and Cas can’t help but chuckle at the picture he and Dean make. The chuckle is also hiding the fact that Dean’s red shorts are hugging his ass and toned, bowed thighs in a way that makes Cas shift when he looks at them.

 

The pool is square, and of decent size. It’s early enough in the day that the place isn’t too busy yet, only a few other patrons aside from themselves.

  
  


All morning, Dean keeps glancing sideways at Cas, looking for telltale signs that he has heard him in the shower this morning. He seems to be acting normal, but the green-eyed man is worried that he may have been a  _ little _ too loud. Mostly, he’s grateful that Castiel came back at all. He’s been coming about every three days, but this time he had waited five before returning. It had unsettled Dean, making him wonder if he had done something wrong to push him away. Cas has been coming around for a couple of weeks now, although they haven’t talked about it. Neither man has established what their plan is with this unorthodox friendship, it’s just assumed that Castiel will show up in the backyard, and they will spend the day together doing something fun, then he will be gone the next day. So far, Dean has absolutely no desire to push the boundaries and talk about it. He’s afraid of talking about the future, of what will happen when the other man goes back to school in the fall. Deep down, he knows the two of them have a couple of months at best, before the student returns to Dartmouth and carries on with his life.

 

Dean is immensely enjoying spending time with someone he considers to be a friend. His parents have both been long since passed, and his brother attends college in California. His best friend Charlie has moved away, and his other best friend Benny, was killed in Vietnam. Sure, he has acquaintances and co-workers, but the older man is mostly alone. Having some company, something to look forward to, is the greatest feeling that Dean has felt in a long while.

 

He slips easily into the water and begins to swim laps, noticing that Castiel is not as keen to jumping straight in. He sits on the edge, dangling his feet in and watching him as he swims by. 

 

“The water’s nice.” Dean tells him. “It’s a gas!” 

 

“Can we go to the more shallow portion?” Castiel cocks his head with his inquiry. 

 

Dean obliges, swimming to the opposite end while his companion walks. He stands in the three foot shallow area, watching as Cas wades in slowly. “You really don’t like the water,huh?” He thinks about the other man trying to use the log to cross the river a couple of weeks ago, but he hadn’t thought about it too hard at the time.

 

“It’s not that I don’t like it. I just...don’t trust myself. I wasn’t very athletic as a kid. I’m still not.” He looks a little embarrassed at the revelation, and it makes something swell in Dean’s chest. 

“That’s okay. I’ll help you. Let’s change the channel.” Cas walks to him and the blonde man stays close by him as they walk deeper. When they get up to the five foot area, Castiel starts to slow down. 

 

“What’s your favorite color?” Dean tries a distraction tactic. He feels guilty for bringing his companion here without realizing that he’s a little afraid of the water.

 

“Green.” Cas answers without thinking, realizing that up until a few weeks ago, his favorite color had been red. Dean doesn’t seem to notice his reasoning. The pair swims slowly past the five foot line, and then the six foot. They are so engrossed in conversation that Cas does not notice that they’ve done so. Dean feels proud, ignoring his other feelings as he keeps one arm on the other boy’s bicep.

 

“I’m doing it!” Castiel grins but makes no move to stray away. “Let’s go further.” 

 

Dean can tell he seems less confident as they go toward the seven foot marker. “I’ve got you…” His own breathing quickens pace as he crowds in. “Lay on your back. Float.” Castiel obliges and Dean lets his arms hover underneath him just in case. The opposite man looks so beautiful, dark hair fanning wildly above his head in the water, and blue eyes shining with happiness. 

 

The 25-year old burns with the desire to kiss him, the urge so strong that it almost overtakes him before he remembers that he can never have Cas, can never have this extraordinary man who came to him from the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"It's a gas": having a lot of fun  
> *"Change the channel" : change the topic of conversation


	5. Chapter Five: Desire is Dark Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean blur some boundaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working full time while trying to write is proving to be more challenging than I'd anticipated. But I'm not giving up on the story ! Comments and kudos are appreciated ! :)

Castiel almost feels bad for his father- he spends nearly every free moment that he can spare when he’s not writing downstairs with the Chronovisor. And Cas figured out how to use it within a week. He does feel bad, however, about lying to him blatantly when he tells Chuck that he doesn’t know how to work it either. The Edlunds have also been noticing that their son seems happier than usual , and of course he has no explanation for them.

 

“It’s nice, that you have a family that cares about you and notices things like that.” Dean tells him. They are laying on a plaid blanket out in the backyard. They often start their time together with sharing about their day, since their lives are so different.

 

“You have Sam.” Cas reminds him. “Even if he currently lives far away.” Dean has told him much about his younger brother, always promising that Sam would really like him. Each time it gives the blue-eyed man a pang in his chest- he doubts that will happen, on account of him heading back to Dartmouth in the fall. Dean nods but doesn’t say anything else. Their silence is comfortable, laying together on the blanket while a warm June breeze blows.

 

Dean falls asleep first, and Castiel follows suit a short while later. The duo is awoken hours later by the sprinkling of raindrops.

 

“Wake up Dean.” Cas shakes his arm, jumping to his feet. The raindrops increase in speed. He helps the other man up as well and they laugh, grabbing the blanket and running into the house. Cas spares a moment to look up at the dark sky, in awe of the muted cerulean and the fluffy charcoal clouds. Storms have always been so beautiful to him, and standing in the middle of one now is no exception. Although the raindrops are cold, he is still entranced for a few more seconds. “Cas!” Dean’s arm reaches out and tugs him in, dragging him into the kitchen.

 

“You’re soaked now.” Dean is filling a glass of water, and when he turns away, Castiel wrings his t-shirt out, the drips clearly heard as they hit the linoleum floor. 

 

“Hey!” Dean sounds incredulous, but Cas just giggles. “Sorry!”

 

His giggling subsides as he looks at the other man for a moment. The small amount of light that filters in from the window above the sink illuminates Dean’s handsome features. In their haste to escape the rain, neither man turned on the kitchen light, leaving the house shrouded in darkness apart from the luminescence from the windows. Something in the moment leaves them staring at each other. 

 

“I...I think I’m thirsty too.” Castiel feels the need to break the tension, and he walks the few feet over to Dean and stands beside him, filling his glass as well. Dean’s hand suddenly comes to rest over top of his on the counter.

 

“Cas.” The other man softly says his name. Castiel looks up to meet his eyes. Abruptly, Dean pushes him against the counter and presses their lips together. Their chests are flush, and Dean’s arms encircle him. The kiss is not slow or gentle by any means, and their teeth clack together more than once. It’s everything that Cas has been needing almost since he met Dean. His plastic cup filled with water falls from the counter with a clatter, but neither man pays it any mind. 

The feeling of something dripping is what prompts them to pull away. “Wha…” Cas’ hand goes to his face, where blood has dripped from his nose onto his chin. 

 

“Did I bump you too hard?” Dean wonders, handing him a small washcloth. 

 

“No, I think it’s just a fluke.” Cas dabs his nose, his heart still beating wildly in his chest from he and Dean’s prior engagements. They spend a few more minutes with Dean fussing over him before either of them mentions the kiss.

 

“Was that...was it okay that I kissed you?” The normally confident blonde sounds unsure of himself as he poses the question.

 

“More than. Actually, I’ve been kind of hoping for it.” Castiel admits, unwilling to meet the green eyes he knows are searching his expression. He isn’t sure why he feels embarrassed at admitting to wanting the other man, when he was the one who made the first advancement. The older man kisses Cas’ cheek. “Don’t want to risk bumping the nose again,ya know?” He elaborates. 

 

The college student nods. “Now we’re both soaked.” He points out. There is a distinct wet chest print on the front of Dean’s shirt now as well. Despite the kiss being passionate, the pair are acting like teenagers on the first date now, afraid to say the wrong thing and break the spell.

“I’ll find us some clothes.” Dean’s voice is little more than a murmur. He returns several minutes later with some comfortable pajamas for Castiel. “They’re no glad rags, but they should do the job.” 

 

Things go back to normal after that, despite the kiss being on Cas’ mind nearly every waking moment. The nosebleeds provide a distraction, however; the second time, he nearly soaks through two of Dean’s towels. The third time, the bleeding does not cease for nearly twenty minutes. Cas has to beg Dean not to take him to the hospital, even if his nose is pouring out blood without reason. 

 

“There will be no medical records. Zero record of me even being born. I  _ haven’t _ even been born yet!” The blue-eyed man’s voice has taken on a higher pitch with the pinching of his nostrils. “I’m sure it’s just allergies or something.” He cringes inwardly at how weak the excuse sounds even to himself. Castiel Edlund has never had allergies a day in his life. He’s never gotten nosebleeds that weren’t the result of nasal trauma, and has barely even been sick most of his life. Truthfully, he’s feeling a little worried about the sudden onset of the nosebleeds himself, but he would never panic Dean over it.

  
  


Dean paces as Cas holds his nose. This is his third nosebleed in two weeks, and surely that’s abnormal. He’s worried, he’s lost so much blood this time but he refuses to go to the hospital. The tough thing is, he might be right. It would be too many people poking around in their private lives….Neither man makes a move for another week. There is a palpable tension in the air, but both are reluctant to break it. They’re hyper-aware of the fragility of their situation, and despite the underlying need, it seems to risky to attempt to pursue a relationship.

 

All of these notions are ones that the rational portion of Cas’ brain keeps reminding him of, yet he is unable to stop himself from sneaking a kiss onto Dean’s lips exactly eight days from their first one. Dean had been leaning over him to grab the television remote, and in the close proximity, Castiel simply couldn’t stand it anymore. He pecked him hard and fast on the corner of his mouth. Both men froze for a moment afterward. 

 

“Please…” The younger man urged Dean to give into their mutual desires. 

 

He does; turning to face Cas more completely and leaning down to capture his lips once again. His hand comes up to rest against Castiel’s cheek, and their lips move together with a lot more grace this time around. He hovers over the other man on the sofa, never quite allowing their bodies to fully touch. They are kissing slowly, kissing just to feel and taste one another, with no frantic desire for an orgasmic end. It’s intimate, and both men have the implications of this buried deep in their minds. 

Dean pulls away to look at Cas in the eyes, when he finds himself staring at the arm of the sofa instead. Where Castiel’s head was moments ago is now just the plain fabric of the couch. He is gone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"Glad rags": dress clothes


	6. Chapter Six: Shout it Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What little boundary was left is erased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: this chapter contains smut !

Castiel paces around his bedroom in 2018. He is thinking himself into a bad mood, repeating the reasons why he and Dean can never work. Rationally, he is all too aware, but his mind and his heart want this more than he’s ever wanted anything. His life here pales in comparison, and it worries him. Then there is the issue of the random nosebleeds coupled with feelings of dizziness that he hasn’t yet told Dean about. He has the sneaking suspicion that he is getting sick from quite literally traveling in time, but he won’t let himself think about it . Yet another truth he is denying to his own mind.

 

The dark grey cloud over his head follows him for multiple more days. He becomes so upset in the middle of one night that he creeps downstairs to the Chronovisor and transports himself to Dean’s, despite it being 2:30am. He can’t remember if the other man has a shift at Cain’s tonight, but after arriving to an empty house, he realizes he is. He curses even though the lounge isn’t far, and begins to walk down the road. Cas breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of the Impala in the parking lot, as if he were seeing Dean himself. 

 

He takes a seat at the bar after flashing the fake I.D. that Dean had his friend Ash make for him. After all, he couldn’t go waltzing in with a 2018 one, and both men wanted Cas to have access to Cain’s when Dean was working. He waits for a few minutes before he asks his handsome friend for a stiff drink. The blonde man is so busy that when he first turned around, he had hardly had the chance to look at Cas as he took his order; but after hearing his voice, he looks up sharply. “Castiel?” He hardly uses the other man’s full name, but his surprise has brought it out. Cas manages a weak smile, his eyes watery . 

 

“Cas…” Dean signals him to wait a few minutes and he does the best he can to crank out the orders he has. Then he pulls him outside to talk for a minute , seeing that his friend can clearly use it. 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Cas looks so upset that it alarms him. 

 

“I just missed you.” The other man tells him honestly, stepping forward to rest his forehead against his chest. Dean wraps his arms around him. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

 

It’s only thing to be in a long distance relationship, but to not even be able to call each other when they’re apart...it’s tough. Dean feels it too, but he doesn’t want to let it show since Castiel is already feeling so lousy. 

 

“My shift is over soon, we can go cuddle for the rest of the night.” 

“You’ll never meet my parents. Or my siblings. Visit me at school, surprise me at my doorstep...I’ll never meet Sam. Or take a road trip to see Charlie.” All of this spews from Cas’ mouth against his will. The tears that have been threatening for days spill out onto his cheeks.

 

Dean is quiet, because Cas is absolutely right. 

 

“We have until school starts, don’t we.” It’s a question, but Dean says it as a statement because he knows it’s the truth. 

 

A few minutes of silence accompany the revelations before they both head back inside. The ride back to Dean’s forty-five minutes later is also quiet, only the low hum of Led Zeppelin on the radio filling the car. When they arrive, Dean crowds Cas up against the doorway. He kisses him with renewed fervor that they have not felt since their first kiss. His hands slide up the other man’s sides, tongues sliding together as their kisses become deeper with urgency. Castiel lets Dean take control, and they stumble down the hall to the bedroom as the sounds of their moans fill the otherwise quiet house.

 

Cas shoves Dean onto the bed, taking control for a minute. He climbs on top of him and straddles his waist, taking his own shirt off. “I want you…” Despite seeming confident in his actions and words, Castiel is not exactly experienced and his nerves are starting to take hold. 

 

“Babe, you’re so hot.” Dean’s normally brilliant eyes are dark with lust and he sits up, holding Cas close as he begins to lick and suck on the sensitive skin of his neck. His strong, calloused hands splay across his lover’s back as he holds him up. Cas’ eyes are closed and he’s biting his bottom lip in an attempt to quell his sure-to-be embarrassing noises. 

 

“I want to see you lose control.” Dean has a big mouth, and the bedroom is no exception. He always seems to end up spilling something dirty or revealing in the bedroom, often times both. He desperately wants to see the controlled man in his arms give himself to him completely. He thumbs over Cas’ nipples and earns his first noise- a surprised squeak. They go back to making out as their erections grind together. 

 

“Do you have lubricant?” Even while asking for something sexual, Castiel is proper as ever. 

“You want to go all the way?” Dean double-checks, wanting to ensure that his lover his positive in his decision. 

 

“Absolutely.” 

 

Dean brings his bottle of lube to the bed, but he isn’t nearly done with Cas yet. He slips a pillow under his hips and has him lay on his stomach. He kisses his way down the knobs of the other man’s spine, hands massaging the firm globes of his ass. 

“Relax...I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He promises as he smacks an asscheek lightly, earning another gravelly moan. 

 

He squeezes out some of the lube and circles his pointer finger around Cas’ hole. “Dean.” Cas moans his name, and Dean uses his free hand to settle on the man’s hip, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. His other digit resumes its ministrations before it slips in. 

 

Dean takes his time prepping Cas, relishing in the noises he is able to draw from the other man. When he hits his prostate, the other man bucks and yelps. 

 

“Has no one ever done this to you?” His green eyes search Cas’ curiously.

 

“They have, but it didn’t feel like that.” The dark-haired man has craned his head to answer Dean. 

 

“They didn’t know what they were doing.” Dean hits Cas’ prostate again, internally satisfied that he is the only one that made Castiel feel this good. He pulls Dean up and they resume their heated makeout session.

 

“I wanted you for so long.” Cas admits, surprising even himself at the revelation. Dean nips at his bottom lip. “Well, you’ve had me from the start.”

 

He rolls on a condom and lifts Castiel’s legs over his shoulders. “Tell me if you want to stop.” He says seriously. Cas grips his shoulders as he slowly starts to push himself in.

 

“So tight…” His eyes flutter closed at the feeling. It’s been a while for him, but he thinks even if it hadn’t been, Cas would still be the best. He doesn’t remember everything feeling this good, this intense. After a minute, he starts fucking his lover in earnest, almost as if he’s afraid to break him.

 

Cas’ mouth is open and he’s panting, grip still strong on Dean’s shoulders. “You’re so big…”

 

Dean huffs a laugh. “You sure know how to boost a guy’s ego.”

 

“Harder.” Sex has never felt like this for Castiel- though he supposes it has something to do with his dating pool being mostly the few other gay men in his religious studies classes. Missionary and zero dirty talk were all he’d ever been exposed to until now. But Dean is so thorough, gentle yet sexy at the same time, it’s driving him crazy.

 

The younger man keens as Dean hits his prostate, and the blonde shifts so he can piston in harder and faster. Cas catches his mouth in another dirty kiss that both men moan into. He crosses his ankles around Dean’s back to hold him in place.

 

“I’m close.” The blue-eyed man practically whimpers. His lover moves a hand to his cock, stroking in time to their rhythm. One minute later, he’s coming all over both of their chests with a shout. Castiel has never shouted during sex in all his life, but it just felt so damn good. The blush on his cheeks begins to cool immediately when he seems Dean’s reaction to it. The man looks even more fascinated, as if Cas was something precious and worthy of the look in his eyes. He thinks he knows what Dean was feeling as he watches him cum as well, eyes closed and teeth worrying his bottom lip.

 

They both clean themselves up after a few minutes of laying there to catch their breath. It is well after four in the morning by now, and both men are exhausted. They fall asleep together in Dean’s bed, the careful boundaries and line that they had worked so hard to preserve now thoroughly crossed.

 

Only a few hours later, the men are awoken by the sound of someone knocking on Dean’s front door. Cas’ watches the other man scurry around the room in search of clothes, still half-asleep and confused. Suddenly Dean’s head snaps up.

 

 

“Oh God, today’s….it’s Sam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy another chapter. Working full-time doesn't allow me as much time to write as I would like but I'm doing my best ! Thank you all for reading, as always.


	7. Chapter Seven: Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel can't hide anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We see some Sam in this chapter ! Picture Season 1/2 young Sam with his later-seasons long hair

The day had been planned for months- Sam and his girlfriend, Sarah, were coming to visit. Dean knew this of course, hadn’t forgotten the date, but had just sort of forgotten that today was the date. 

“You said you wanted to meet Sam.” The older man tosses a pair of clothes at Cas.

Cas smiles and scrambles to put on clothes. He can almost pretend for a moment that he and Dean have a normal relationship.

 

Sam is everything and nothing that he expected all at once. He was taller than both Dean and himself, with long shoulder-length hair. He had dimples when he smiled and his eyes were a different shade of green than Dean’s- a little more hazel. However, something about him reminded him of his older brother, the man Castiel was in love with. It made him keep a secret smile on his face during the whole visit.

Sam and Sarah Blake, his girlfriend, both attended Stanford University in California. Neither seemed surprised to see Dean with a guy, however; when Dean introduced Cas as his boyfriend, all three were shocked. The foursome go out for breakfast at a local diner, and Castiel finds that he enjoys listening to the three catch up. It has been a long time since he’s heard or participated in brotherly banter like the conversation going on between Dean and Sam, and he feels a little nostalgic for his own brothers. The blue-eyed man begins to feel a little guilty for not being as present in his own life as of late, but brushes the thought aside.

Sarah and Sam come back to the house and they all share some beers as they sit around the kitchen table reminiscing. Castiel finds himself finding out more about Dean’s childhood than Dean had ever told him- he always seemed a little sensitive about the subject and Cas hadn’t wanted to pry. Some of the stories Sam brings up still seem to cause Dean some discomfort, and his boyfriend notices this with equal parts curiosity and sadness. He does not like to think about what could have happened to the younger version of Dean to make him react this way.

The dark-haired man knows that both of the Winchester boys’ parents have passed away; their mother when both boys were much younger and their father only three years ago. He also knows that Dean was drafted into the Vietnam war when he was twenty. Sam had left for Stanford when he was eighteen, which also deeply hurt Dean, who had just arrived home from the war. These are all things that Castiel has come to know over the past couple of months spent with the man. However, he hadn’t heard anything about the other man in the photo that he saw on one of his first trips here. Today, Sam has mentioned this man several times. His name was Benny, and he was Dean’s best friend. Based upon his boyfriend’s reactions to hearing his name and the lack of mention on his part, Castiel would guess that the other man never made it home.

Sarah and Sam head out onto the road again in the evening. The pair will be driving a few hours to stay with some old friends; they plan on coming back to Dean’s for more visiting on their way out of Kansas again.

As they lay on the couch together, the younger man decides to voice the thoughts that have been swimming around in his head almost the entire day. 

“Why haven’t you told me about Benny? If you want to talk about it….”

Dean stiffens immediately. “I don’t.” He automatically shuts down.

“But…” Cas tries to ask again, but the look on Dean’s face stops him mid-sentence. Dean’s expression is one he doesn’t recognize- in fact, his boyfriend’s entire demeanor has changed drastically. He can almost hardly discern him as his lover under the hard features and stiff posture. He unconsciously scoots away on the sofa. His gaze drifts away as well, not wanting to see the soldier instead of his boyfriend any longer. They are quiet for a few beats before the older man changes the subject and asks Castiel what his thoughts were about Sam.

About an hour later, Cas offers to make dinner while Dean searches for a film for them to watch. He is in the kitchen preparing the ingredients when the all-too-familiar fuzzy feeling begins to make itself known. It starts with blurring at the edges of his vision, causing his head to swim. He attempts to casually halt the cooking process to take a moment for it to subside. However, this time, it doesn’t. The feeling seems to intensify, making him dizzy in an instant. Cas begins to internally panic, gripping the edge of the counter with white knuckles. The fuzziness encroaches on his vision until he can no longer see, no matter how many rapid blinks he employs. His senses seem to go blank as he loses consciousness.

Across the room on the sofa, Dean looks over to his boyfriend, about to suggest a movie he has found. His brow creases and he frowns. “Cas?” The other man is staring straight ahead, not moving. He seems to have not heard Dean. The look in his eyes is as if he is far away, not cooking dinner across the room from him. 

A small gasp escapes Dean as he watches Castiel’s eyes roll back, and he falls backward, hitting the linoleum with a dull thud.

The green-eyed man races over, but is unable to reach his boyfriend in time to catch him. “Castiel!” His voice sounds high-pitched with panic. He places his palms on either side of his lover’s face. He notes that his skin feels clammy and cold. His training from his time as a soldier kicks in and he feels for a radial pulse. Cas’ heart is beating rapidly, but he has still not returned to consciousness. Dean has no idea what to do; if he takes Castiel to a hospital, he will have no prior medical records and is due to disappear in about three hours. There’s no way he can explain that away. He carries Cas to the bed and waits, smoothing his hair down and checking his pulse every minute or so. He murmurs quietly to him and prays to the God he hasn’t had a functional relationship with in years.

In about five minutes, the kind of sluggish minutes that seem like hours, Castiel wakes up slowly, disoriented. “Dean?”

“Shh...I’m right here.” Dean soothes him. “You fainted. Does the back of your head hurt?”

“No.” Cas checks, rubbing the top of his dark hair. “I fainted?” He asks, surprised. He remembers feeling dizzy, but that has been happening frequently to him as of late, although Dean is unaware of this. 

“Yes. How do you feel now? Were you dehydrated?” Dean’s concern is breaking Castiel’s heart, he doesn’t want to lie anymore, but he feels like he has to.

“No, it just came on suddenly. I feel okay now.” He does feel decent now, if not slightly shell-shocked. 

“I wish you didn’t have to leave soon. I’m worried.” Dean admits, laying down next to him.

They lay quietly together for about an hour before Dean determines that his boyfriend is really alright. He goes to the kitchen to finish their dinner and they eat with the elephant in the room. Cas is clearing his plate when Dean breaks the tension-filled silence.

 

“I don’t think you should come here anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter update!


	8. Chapter Eight: Impending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big decisions are to be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: mentions of depression, PTSD, war, etc.

Dean doesn’t, can’t, meet Castiel’s eyes. Instead he takes the plates from him and carries them to the sink, holding his breath as he waits for Cas to reply.

 

It takes a few moments for Cas to comprehend the words that have spilled from his boyfriend’s mouth. 

 

“Why?” His voice sounds desperate, but he doesn’t have it in him to feel embarrassed about it.

 

“I think coming here is making you sick, and I can’t be the one doing that to you.” Dean still hasn’t turned around, choosing instead to look out the window above the kitchen sink. He knows he’ll change his mind the second he sees Castiel’s face. “It’s just not working anymore.”

 

“How can you say that? I thought…” Castiel trails off, suddenly wondering if he’s gotten it wrong the entire time- maybe he has been being a bother to Dean and this is just a pretense to keep him away without saying the truth. For the first time, he is glad that he will be being taken back to his own time period very soon.

 

There isn’t much more to be said between then and the time that Cas returns home. He hates that he is zapped back without making things right with his boyfriend- if they’re even still dating. He feels confused more than anything, and sick to his stomach with the fear that Dean has been trying to do this for a long time. Fear about his own mysterious illness is manifesting itself as well, effectively making the college student miserable and anxious for days. Cas tosses and turns at night, and is moody and withdrawn during the day. His parents attempt to talk to him, but there’s really nothing he is able to say.

  
  


When Dean doesn’t see Cas for days, he worries that he might actually be heeding his advice, and it terrifies him. Although he had been the one to tell the other man to stay away, he’d secretly been hoping that he would appear anyway. Dean is aware that this is unfair, but his heart can’t help but want what it wants. However, he truly does think that the time travel is affecting Castiel physically, and it immensely worries him. There is two weeks left until Cas is due to return to school. Dean wonders if he’ll see the younger man again before then, and if their plans to visit during Cas’ breaks still stand. The future was uncertain for them at best when they weren’t drifting apart, but now it seems damn near unforeseeable.

The idea that he’ll be left alone again twists Dean’s stomach into knots. He’d gotten so used to having someone around again that the idea of being abandoned sends him into a spiral. When he was in Vietnam, there was no alone time. Everything you had you shared with your men- your time, your space, your thoughts. One man in particular, Benny, had become especially close with Dean. They had watched each other’s backs for countless nights , struggling to stay awake when even the fear wasn’t enough to fuel their bodies anymore. Then Benny passed, and Dean’s draft tour had ended, and he returned home. And then suddenly everyone was gone- Sam was at college , their father passed away, and Charlie moved to a different state. Dean isolated himself from anyone who was left until Castiel came along and broke the cycle of despair.

 

Dean is punching his bathroom mirror before he can even register it. The glass shatters satisfyingly; the sound loud in the quiet Kansas house. His right hand is cut to hell, but he can’t even feel it through the pain in his mind and his chest. He sits on the floor, leaning against the bathtub and cradling his bleeding hand with a towel. The green-eyed man finally lets the grief make itself known to his conscious mind and he lets go, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. He stays there for a long time, only finally hauling himself to his feet to throw himself on his bed, where he stays for two days.

 

In those two days, he only moves to relieve his bladder and bowels and drink the occasional sip of water. Dean tries not to think that there’s no real reason for him to get up at all anymore, but the thought slips in a few times anyway. On the third day, he sweeps up the glass in the bathroom and properly bandages his cut. He even sits down at the kitchen table for a small meal. The blonde man forces himself to attend all of his shifts at Cain’s, desperately hoping it will take his mind off of Castiel.

  
  


It doesn’t.

  
  


He wakes up two nights later to a warm body pressing up against him. After six days of not seeing the other man, of thinking he is never coming back, Dean nearly cries in relief. Instead, he wraps his arms around him without a word. He lays awake for a long time, even after he hears Cas’ breathing even out and knows he is asleep. In the morning, the other man looks almost shy as they wake up together. 

 

“Is it okay that I came back?”

 

Dean’s heart twists hearing the words- that Castiel would even have to ask is insane. 

 

“Of course.” He holds him tighter. “Of course.” He says again, softer this time. “I just worry about you. That’s all it was.” The memory of him telling his lover that they shouldn’t see each other anymore seems like a lifetime ago, although it was barely a week.

The two men seem a little more cautious around each other, but Castiel shows up the next two days in a row as well. It is the end of July here, but in 2018, it is the end of August, signaling the start of another college school year. He is due back at Dartmouth the 27th. He tells Dean all about his schedule, and they both pretend to be excited even when their hearts are aching already.

 

Six days left now. Castiel wakes up early to head downstairs to the Chronovisor, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Dad! Dad!” Cas is yelling up the stairs before his brain even registers what it is seeing-or not seeing-before him.

 

 

The Chronovisor is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more Dean POV in this chapter ! Hope you all enjoyed.


	9. Chapter Nine: Angel of the Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inevitable is upon them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been slowly working on this day by day but my wifi is trash...but it's here now !

 

Chuck huffs a laugh at Castiel’s expression, oblivious to his son’s anguish. He claps him on the back lightly as he retreats back into his study. Cas had raced upstairs to find his father, where he calmly explained that since they had made no progress with the Chronovisor, it had gone to the next person. The eldest Edlund is unobservant to the pained expression on his youngest child’s face.

 

Cas walks slowly to his room, his entire body feeling strangely numb, aside from his heart, which is twisting in his chest. He lays down on the bed and stares at the ceiling for a long time, his mind unhelpfully supplying images of a certain handsome green-eyed man. He’s in too much shock to fully grasp that he will  _ never _ see Dean again. Every kiss they’ve shared, every moment they’ve spent together, every story they’ve shared in the dark...it’s all gone. It’s all erased, and they can never get it back. Dean and Castiel were the great love story that almost was.

Castiel heads back to Dartmouth two days early, seeing no point in waiting around in Kansas when there’s nothing to wait around for any longer. He can’t bear to be in that house anymore, when around every corner he imagines the previous decorations of 1968. Even the fact that he got into the co-ed dorm this year and is rooming with his friend Meg can’t lift his spirits. September comes in with it’s just-turning leaves and it’s promise of shorter days and cooler nights. Cas can’t help but think that he has never known Dean in the month of September. He can’t decide if the thought is terrifying or comforting. 

 

He has two moods lately- emptiness and despair. To think about the fact that Dean most certainly thinks he just stopped coming without saying goodbye is enough to break his heart all over again. The other man will think that he didn’t want him anymore, when that is the furthest thing from the truth. Castiel throws himself into his classes to take his mind off of the disaster that has become his mental state. Before he knows it, October is rapidly approaching and he’s barely even noticed the passing of the days of September. That should scare him, but it doesn’t. These days he feels like he has nothing left to lose.

 

The last six days pass in a lonely drag for Dean. He wakes up on the morning that he knows Castiel will be going back to school and feels numb. He has replayed every last moment of their final few days together and he’s exhausted now. There was no indication that Cas would just leave him hanging, and yet….he did. Maybe he thought that a clean break would be best for both of them, no messy goodbye and no tears. Dean tries to make himself believe that that is true, but he has a hard time believing in anything since his boyfriend left. He attends his shifts at Cain’s, works on his beloved car, and calls Sam every once in a while, each day blending into the next. The blonde man only notices that it is October by the seemingly sudden appearance of decorations on front porches.

 

How strange to think that one person could turn his world upside down, and yet here he is, pining for someone he never really had in the first place. Truly, he isn’t sure what he was ever thinking. Loving someone from a  _ different time period _ ? It didn’t matter that around Cas, Dean felt like more than another Vietnam vet left to waste his life away. It didn’t matter that he had finally let himself fully trust his heart to another person. It also didn’t matter that Castiel was really the only person Dean had in his life that was a constant. It doesn’t matter now, and maybe it never did.

 

Dean is underneath the hood of the Impala one late October afternoon. The radio plays softly in the background, but a semi-familiar tune catches his interest and he cocks his head for a moment to listen.

 

_ “There’ll be no strings to bind your hands, _

_ Not if my love can’t bind your heart _

_ And there’s no need to take a stand _

_ For it was I who chose to start _

_ I see no need to take me home _

_ I’m old enough to face the dawn” _

 

The song is titled “Angel of the Morning” and it takes his breath away how much it reminds him of Cas.

 

_ “Just call me angel of the morning, (angel) _

_ Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby _

_ Just call me angel of the morning, (angel) _

_ Then slowly turn away from me” _

 

Dean slams the hood of his Baby and walks out of the garage without even turning the radio off.

  
  


“Clarence?” Meg’s tone sounds annoyed, as though she’s been attempting to capture his attention for several minutes now.

 

“Hmm?” Cas asks, not even turning his head to look at her. He has been staring out of the window of the coffee shop they’re currently in for the better portion of fifteen minutes. 

 

“You’re not even listening to me.” She whines.

 

“I apologize.” Castiel replies halfheartedly. A sound other than Meg makes his ears perk up- the song playing on the radio. Something about it makes him freeze. He listens to it while Meg sips her coffee and doodles in the notebook that is supposed to contain class notes. The song is called Angel of the Morning, and the melancholy lust of the instrumentals and the lyrics make his stomach churn.

 

_ “Maybe the sun's light will be dim _

_ And it won't matter anyhow _

_ If morning's echo says we've sinned _

_ It was what I wanted now _

_ And if we're victims of the night _

_ I won't be blinded by the light” _

 

He slams the door of the coffee shop on his way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly wanted this to be even more angsty than it already is. Are you feeling the angst? Do you feel like you've lost your own lover to a time machine??
> 
> P.S. See what I did there with the chapter title?


	10. Chapter Ten: Colorless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pining. Yearning. Longing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget; the boys' time periods are about a month apart. It gets a bit confusing with their point of views, but bear with me.

Meg has regarded Castiel wearily ever since the day that he stormed out of the coffee shop about two weeks prior. Cas is aware of this, but there’s nothing he can do- she’s right to keep an eye on him, because he truly feels he may fall apart at any moment. He is excelling in all his classes, but his passion for the subject seems to have waned, like his passion for a lot of things these days. The weekend before Halloween, Meg enters their room and throws herself on her bed dramatically. She sighs, which Castiel recognizes as his cue to ask her what is troubling her. 

 

“What’s wrong, Meg ?” He asks, and his voice sounds half-hearted at best, even to himself.

 

“There’s a party tonight, but I don’t want to go alone. I wish my  _ best friend _ would come with me.” She looks at him pointedly.

 

“I’m not really in the party mood.” Cas replies predictably.

 

“Listen, you won’t tell me what’s wrong, and all you do is study and mope around. I can’t watch it anymore! Come to the party, you’ll feel better once you get out of the house.” Meg takes the book out of his hands and drags him over to his closet, and that settles it. Castiel is going to the party whether he wants to or not.

 

They walk through the chilly night to the party across campus and arrive at the frat house about 9:30pm. The music is loud even before they walk through the door; it makes Cas want to shy away, but he lets Meg drag him through the crowd of people anyway. They stand in a corner for a while, both sipping on a Solo cup full of beer. Castiel has never really been fond of the drink, but if it numbs his senses, he’ll do anything at this point. Once the two of them are sufficiently buzzed, they moved more into the center of the room and Cas even dances with her a little bit. This is the closest thing to fun that the blue-eyed man has felt in a long time, and he catches himself with a smile on his face. However, he stops in his tracks after seeing a familiar blonde-but-almost-light-brown-yet-with-a-hint-of-auburn head of hair across the room. Cas stands frozen, his heart pounding in his chest, he moves forward, reaching out to turn the man around. “De-” The words die on his lips as the person turns around, and he’s face-to-face with-

 

A pair of brown eyes. 

 

It’s not him.

 

His chest constricts and he barrels his way through the crowd in the opposite direction, his brain screaming at him to get away. He barely feels Meg’s hand on his as she trails behind him, following him out into the chilly night.

 

“What is it? Did that guy do something to you?” She sounds so concerned, and it makes Castiel feel nauseous knowing he’ll have to lie to her. They keep walking, a little slower now, making their way back across campus. The night is brisk and the scent of fall hangs heavy in the air, a touch of fog drifting around across the dewy grass. It’s the type of night Cas would usually love, but he can’t seem to find comfort in anything at the moment. Instead, he pictures the weather in Kansas instead. It would be late September for Dean. Not quite as cold, not quite as eerie. Maybe he’s been walking to Cain’s for his shifts like he sometimes does.

 

“He just reminded me of someone.” Cas says softly. He can’t believe he’s letting even that much slip.

 

“Did you meet someone over the summer, is that what this is about? Because you know you guys can call, or write, or visit.” Meg watches Cas for any sign of reaction but he is careful to give none.

 

“No. We can’t.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is almost Halloween, which means it’s almost Thanksgiving for Cas. He should be heading back to his parent’s house for the festivities, but Dean doesn’t hold onto the hope that he will suddenly appear in his backyard one day soon. He has been picking up all the extra shifts at Cain’s, saving his money for God-knows-what. Maybe he’ll go visit Sam and Sarah for the holidays, or even Bobby up in South Dakota. Anything for him to feel less alone, less like a trainwreck without a purpose.

 

He looks for resemblance of Castiel in strangers, although he doesn’t know why. It certainly doesn’t make him feel any better. He searches every pair of blue eyes, but they’re never quite right. Never quite the same shade of cerulean with a hint of curiosity always lurking behind them. He still hasn’t seen any hair that retains the same permanent bed-head qualities. 

 

Dean has attempted to flirt sometimes, attempted to have a fling, but he can never go through with it, guy or girl. It feels wrong deep down in his gut, even if Castiel was the one who walked away from him without looking back.

 

He has also stopped sleeping in his own bedroom. Instead, he sleeps on the couch, where the reminders of his lover are still there but are less intense. Dean has been remembering Benny a lot lately as well. This is just the sort of thing he would be able to talk to his friend about, and he would give him some strange Louisiana proverb that would somehow make Dean feel better. He remembers talking to Benny about Lisa, the only other long-term relationship Dean has ever had. He knows now that he never really loved her, not the way he loved Castiel. There was nothing to compare that to, but he only knows this now in hindsight.

 

One evening, in the peak of loneliness, he begins to write a letter to Cas. He knows that it’s a bad idea for his mental health, but he finds himself pen in hand anyway.

 

“ _ Dear Cas, _

 

_ It’s been two months since I’ve seen you. I never thought that eight weeks could feel like they were dragging on just to torture me. It’s never ending, and I know it only gets worse from here. It’s hard to convince my heart that you won’t be walking through my back door any minute. You will never see this letter, but maybe I can pretend for a little while. Pretend that we’re just long distance. I’m really lonely here; there’s no one for me to talk to anymore. I feel more isolated than I ever have, and it’s partly my own doing. If you were here, you would tell me to get my butt out of the house. But you’re not...I hope you’re having a good time at school, and that you’re learning a lot. I know how much you love to learn. Maybe you could send me some of those angels that you read about. _

 

_ All my love, _

 

_ Dean _ ”


	11. Chapter Eleven: Hope is a Four Letter Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe hope hasn't left our boys after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK. From an unexpected and long hiatus...but back nevertheless.

The holiday season brings many welcome distractions into Castiel’s life. Although he no longer has the distraction of schoolwork to keep him occupied since he is currently on break, his family certainly provides enough entertainment of their own. Having four siblings that all make it home for Thanksgiving and Christmas every single year has its perks. It is their first year at this home in Kansas, and in a way it makes the house stand out from its likeness to Dean’s home. The hustle and bustle of the Edlund household keeps Cas on his toes, and thankfully from thinking about how much he wishes that the pocket watch he still keeps could bring him back to his lover. However, if he really looks around the room, he can’t help but take notice of his siblings with their respective partners. It fills him with a pang that he can’t quite describe, even when his only sister Anna privately asks him what is wrong.

 

“You just seem...I don’t know, sad. Upset about something. A little like your mind is far away.” Anna rubs her flat palm up and down his back like she used to when he was a child.

 

So much for being too preoccupied to think about-

 

Cas pushes the thought away and puts on his best doe eyes for his sister. “Just worried about finals.” He lies.

 

Anna is smart enough to be skeptical. “You? You’ve never had to worry about schoolwork a day in your life. Aren’t you doing the best you’ve ever been this past semester?” Castiel simply shrugs and she opts to let it go for the time being. Whatever it is, she’s never seen her youngest brother this consistently glum. Her parents have pointed it out too, whenever they speak on the phone and now in person, behind closed doors. Anna notes that Cas still has his old habit of touching his pocket watch and wonders if it’s simply the sting of missing their grandfather during the holidays that has him upset.

 

Thanksgiving comes and goes, and he’s back at school then back at home again for Christmas-time fast enough to give him whiplash. Later, he’ll blame it on too much spiked eggnog that he sits himself in his sister’s room one December night and starts confessing.

 

“I met someone. Over the summer.” Castiel says this with no warning, while Anna is reading on her bed one evening. He steps into the guest room she is staying in and closes the door behind him.

 

Anna immediately puts her book down. “I had my suspicions. I remember what a broken heart feels-and looks- like.” She gives him a pointed half-glare, as if to say “You could have told me sooner”. The siblings are quiet for a moment before she speaks “What was he like?”

 

Cas laughs a little despite himself. “Goofy. Sarcastic. A little self-deprecating, never really knew his own worth. Fearless- we swam together Anna, I actually went swimming. Kind. Strong, he was a soldier.” 

 

Anna looks horrified, immediately thinking the worst- assuming that Dean was killed in combat. Castiel quickly shuts it down. “No, he didn’t...yeah.” He finds himself unable to say ‘die’ and ‘Dean’ in the same sentence. 

“Then what happened between you two?” The red head looks genuinely curious and concerned in equal parts.

 

“It’s complicated. I can’t really explain that.” Cas refuses to meet her eyes and instead toys with his phone in his hand.

 

“Well, do you at least have a picture?” She nods toward the phone.

 

He had never really thought to take pictures with Dean at the time, but he did have one. He snuck the picture one night when Dean was cooking them dinner. He pulls it up for Anna now. It’s not a head on, you can’t see his beautiful eyes or freckles. He is looking down and slightly to the side as he sets their plates down, a delicious meal that Cas remembers as one of their first together.

 

“He’s handsome.” His sister tells him sincerely. She frowns slightly. “He also looks sort of familiar.”

  
  


It isn’t until days later when she finally recognizes him. She races into Castiel’s room when he is nearly asleep and turns on the bedside lamp. “This is really weird. I want you to take a look at this.” She hands Cas an old photograph of their grandfather, one of her favorites. He is leaning against a table and smiling in what looks to be a nightclub, or maybe a bar. In the background, wiping down the bar counter is Dean, in almost the same profile as the picture that Castiel has shown Anna. Part of the neon “ _ Cain’s _ ” sign that hangs above the liquor bottles is visible near the top of the photo.

 

“I’ve seen this photo so many times, I knew I’d seen your man before.” 

 

Still staring at the photo, Cas sits up in bed. “Have a seat, Anna.” He draws a deep breath and prepares to tell the real story to the one person who  _ might _ not laugh him into the looney bin.

  
  
  


Dean drives up to Bobby’s for Thanksgiving. Sam flies in from California, sans Sarah this time. The two split when Sarah moved across the country to be with her father who had had a stroke, and to take over the family art dealer business. Sam explains that there are no hard feelings between them and that they remain friends, but Dean still thinks it’s a shame. 

  
  


Bobby’s friends and neighbors join them for Thanksgiving dinner, and it turns out to be one of the best holidays that Dean has ever had. For the first time in a long time, he feels surrounded by people who care about him.

 

This prompts Dean to use some of his vacation time around Christmas and drive back up to Bobby’s to spend a week. Sam can only get a few days off from school, and he arrives at the Singer household the night before Christmas Eve. He’s kind enough to wait until Bobby is in another room to begin questioning his older brother.

 

“So...I noticed Cas hasn’t come with you now or for Thanksgiving. You two…” He trails off before he can assume that they are broken up. He sincerely hopes that they simply made an agreement to attend their own family holidays separately. That hope is squashed by the look in Dean’s eyes.

 

“We uh, went our separate ways.” Is the phrase he says out loud, but in his head he is thinking “Cas went his separate way.” In typical Winchester fashion, Dean suppresses his emotions around his family. There no sense in worrying them over a stupid break up, over a stupid relationship that never should have happened in the first place.

  
  


He is nursing a beer at the kitchen table with Bobby on the day of New Year’s Eve when it seems that the ‘no chick flick moments’ rule is broken by Bobby himself.

 

“You know, when Karen first died, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Wandered around this damn ol’ house feeling like a fool for ever falling in love in the first place. Like I’d done something wrong by letting someone have my heart.” Bobby takes a swig of his beer and avoids Dean’s eyes. “But ya know, that ain’t what it’s about. Just because you might lose someone doesn’t mean you should never try, or that you should regret it.” Dean is at a loss, Bobby hardly ever talks about Aunt Karen. “Now I know that boy of yours ain’t dead in the ground, so why don’t you tell me why you two aren’t together workin’ things out?” His surrogate uncle adjusts his ever-present trucker cap and finally meets his eyes. “Well?”

 

Dean doesn’t bother asking Bobby how he knows. Either Sam told him or his killer instincts put two and two together, and neither option leaves Dean enough room to explain that his boyfriend went back to the future.

 

“You’ll think I’m crazy.” Dean finally says, after a long stretch of silent stares.

  
  


“You’re not crazy, Dean.” An unfamiliar voice causes both men to turn around.

 

Michael Edlund steps into view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, please leave me kudos and comments as encouragement to continue the story.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic required me to do a lot of research- the language and descriptions used were all researched to make the story as authentic as possible. I apologize for any mistakes or misrepresentations. And yes, this does mean that the Chronovisor is a real machine. Depending on what you define as real...the information written in the story is pretty much all of the information available. All that being said...enjoy !


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